


invitation

by brandflakeeee



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: F/M, I decided to post it anyway, apparently my niche in this fandom is, finding excuses for persephone to escape her shitty custody arrangement, this started out as something else entirely but it changed along the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 05:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19350415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandflakeeee/pseuds/brandflakeeee
Summary: usually persephone and hades don't go to any shindig up on the mountain because it ends badly. this time, however, persephone has a request.





	invitation

**Author's Note:**

> insert shrug.jpg here

The invitation had arrived in a crisp white envelope straight from Hermes three weeks after her return to the underground. 

 

“You can take that right back upstairs.” Persephone murmured, barely glancing up from where she was wrist deep in dark, nearly black, sand like soil. Strange plants and twisting fronds filled the humid room. A greenhouse - what posed for one in the underground world, at the very least. Filled with the sorts of plants only found beneath the earth. Life among death. 

 

“I’d read it, sister.” Hermes replied, holding it out. She sighed, shoulders slouching when she realized he wasn’t about to go away until she took the damn thing. Dirt smeared fingers took the envelope, tarnishing it as she promptly tossed it onto a bench nearby. 

 

“I have more important things to do than show up on my daddy’s whim.” She remarked. “He can’t always get his way.”

 

“You tell him that, and let me know how that goes. Then I reckon I’ll be picking up your ghost come fall.”

 

“I ain’t afraid of him.” She huffed. Her relationship with her father was complicated at best. Her views of him were seen through tainted, stained glass - all she had were her momma’s stories of him. The time they’d actually spent together had been in public when he’d played all nicey-nice so Hera didn’t backhand him three centuries into the past (though gods, would Persephone pay to see it). 

 

“Besides,” She continued. “What’s he gonna do? Come down here?” She snorted sharply. “Here’s a message you can take him:  _ fuck off _ .”

 

Hermes held up his hands in a display of innocence. 

 

“I’m not gonna be the messenger he shoots.”

 

“That’s literally your job.”

 

“And I’d like to keep doing it, which means stayin’ alive. You got a message, send it to him yourself.”

 

Persephone rolled her eyes as Hermes laughter faded while he left the room. With new vigor she dug her hands back into the soil and fisted great clumps of it in frustration and irritation. Stupid Zeus. Yet her brother had looked mighty strange in the eyes when he’d given it to her. Almost worried. She could count on one hand the times she’d seen that look, and every single one of them had been because of daddy Zeus. For all his uselessness in general, he kept tight reins on most of the gods. No one had really gotten out of hand in ages, though. Decades. Nothing for him to come down off the mountain for - usually he sent half mortals or some other bullshit excuse to solve the problem for him. 

 

Realising she was uprooting instead of planting, Persephone took a breath and forced herself to relax. Even if he was sending invitations, it wasn’t the first time. It wouldn’t be the last. It could join the others in the fireplace and she’d watch as it burned up to bits of ash. Her lover never disagreed; he hated his brothers and their self righteous garbage. Persephone doesn’t blame him. Some parts of the past are hard to forget, especially when it happened to be permanently branded into your skin as horrible, twisted scars.

 

“I am not opening you.” She muttered to the envelope on the bench, admiring her handiwork. As if it understood. She wished it would. Maybe Hermes would stop showing up with stupid invitations every other winter. Her brother got a sick enjoyment out of it, she knew. Little shit. Wiping her hands on the bottom of her dress, she turned to the elegant, branching tree in the center of the room. It had a thick trunk, it’s roots disappearing into the soil beneath. Branches arched up toward the glass ceiling. Thick, deep red fruits hung low on the branches ripe for picking. She reached out for a pomegranate and plucked it from it’s branch. 

 

Then with a vague scowl, she turned and snatched up the envelope and left the room.

 

Her husband was working of course. He always did, though lately he'd taken to spending more time with her. Which was all she'd wanted to begin with. Where he'd got it in his head she wanted a whole neon city she didn't know, just glad it was gone. Guess he figured she'd like the warmth since he couldn't give her the sunshine. If she wanted the sunshine she wouldn't have agreed to marry him, the idiot. She can't blame him for trying - his role models for marriage were his brothers hot damned messes and she guessed he'd been afraid of losing her. She'd been afraid of losing them. They'd had that long talk on the train down and had promised to keep it behind them. Life moved on. They tried again. Things were getting better. 

 

Hades sat at his his desk and Persephone watched as he poured over ledgers. Running hell was hard work and numbers and Persephone sure as hell hadn't been helping while they were fighting years previous. Now she's playing catch up while he began the removal of the factories, the foundries. The wall. That damned thing. She hated it more than she could say. But it was coming down and she hoped the wall between the two of them crumbled with it. 

 

“In or out, wife. You're worse than the dogs lingering in the door.”

 

“Did you just compare me to a dog?”

 

Hades' flint grey eyes snapped up from the ledger with a vaguely alarmed expression. Persephone snorted.

 

“Relax, lover. Joking.” She pushed past the doorframe toward his great desk, offering out the pomegranate to him. He took it, his fingers lingering against her own. She smiled and squeezed his hand fondly, leaning against the corner. 

 

“Let me have a look before your eyes bug outta your head.” Persephone picked up the ledger he'd been working on, skimming the pages. He didn't protest, merely pulled a pocket knife from his trousers and cut into the fruit. She'd always had the head for numbers, but had never been the sort to sit behind a desk and crunch them all damn day. Sometimes it felt pointless, all of it - they were gods for shit's sake. Could have anything they wanted. It was good to have a purpose though, and while seeing to the dead was enough she often wondered if Hades had built his metropolis because he wanted the stability of it. 

 

She moved to sit on the corner of his desk, grabbing his abandoned pen to correct and make notes as she went. She could see her husband watching her out of the corner of her eye, those ruby fruit seeds staining the pads of his fingers. She'd give anything to eat them too, but six had been her promise. Any more and it upset the balance, though on more than one occasion Persephone had entertained the idea of doing it anyway. To prove her choice. The idea of not being able to enjoy the spring and summertime had kept her from making any rash decisions however, and she’d stored the thought for a later day.

 

"What's this?" Hades asked in a low rumble, wiping his hands on a handkerchief before reaching for the envelope she'd put down. She scoffed.

 

"Another of big man's party invites. Tried to tell Hermes to tell him to shove it."

 

Hades gave a non-committal hum and she returned to the ledger on her lap. After a beat he tore into the envelope - sometimes it was fun to see what daddy Zeus had come up with. What excuse he was using to throw a party up on the mountain; not that he needed it. When her husband didn’t make some sarcastic quip she looked up again, brows furrowed.

 

“What?”

 

“It’s an invitation.” He held up the embossed gold and white bit of paper.

 

“Yeah, the usual. Why you look like it’s a death sentence?”

 

There was another folded bit of paper in the envelope he held up between two fingers. She frowned, reaching forward to snatch it. It was still the same fancy sort of paper, but handwritten and addressed to them both. Persephone felt her stomach twist into knots. 

 

“Oh, for -.”

 

In no uncertain terms, it demanded their attendance. Something about proving they weren’t about to cast the mortal realm into permanent winter or summer or destroy the underworld for the shades, other stupid nonsense that Persephone couldn’t give two shits about. It was a vaguely veiled  _ threat _ all the same. To show up, or face consequences. To make sure their shit was together as a couple before one of his demigods intervened. 

 

“I’d kill him, but he’d be stuck down here with us forever and we’d go mad.” She muttered darkly, crumbling the paper in her hand. “Like I said to Hermes - I don’t come and go by my damned daddy’s  _ whims _ .”

 

“We should go.”

 

Persephone wasn’t sure she’d heard her husband correctly, but judging by the solemn, thoughtful look on his face she knew. 

 

“Don’t tell me you’re serious, husband. We both hate the lot of them and are far better down here than up on that stupid mountain playing show and tell. He can’t touch us here and he knows it.”

 

“But he can you.”

 

She faltered. 

 

“What are you on about?”

 

“You spend half your year on the surface, Persephone. He may not get to us now, but he will when you go back up top.” His voice was quiet, a deep rumble in his chest. She felt her stomach twist again in irritation and anger and something else - he was  _ worried _ about her. She could see it in the furrow of his brow, the way his lips twisted when he spoke. 

 

“You’re the last person I’d ever expect to actually agree to go to one of these shindigs.”

 

“And risk your life?” His gaze settled on her. “Losing you is not an option. I will not play harbor to your immortal shade.”

 

Persephone reached out and took his hand again, her thumb running across the back of his knuckles in soft assurance. Her expression shifted into something softer. That was the thing about her husband - he turned her all soft sometimes, a full contrast to his sharp lines and set jaw. 

 

“You’ll be miserable.”

 

“We won’t stay long. Enough to entertain him, then we’ll leave. He knows I won’t stay up there.” Hades murmured, lifting her hand to his lips to kiss it. “But I’m not willing to cause a war that will make you a casualty.”

 

Everything he did, it had always been for her. That’s what made it so hard to consider all the time they’d wasted fighting. Misleading each other. Why the girl and her poet had suffered - sure, it’d been his fault. But hadn’t she driven him to it? Neither one of them were innocent in that shitshow - but the past could not be changed. They’d vowed to not make nearly the same mistakes. Not again. Not with the ancient song singing in their bones once more. 

 

“You better keep me from saying something stupid.” She warned after a moment, and he chuckled briefly, his lips curling into that smile she knew. 

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Your presence at gatherings of the family tree are always a delight because you speak your mind.”

 

“Family tree? Like hell. It’s a damned family circle with the lot of us and you know it.” She squeezed his hand. “Better go and find a dress then, hadn’t I?”

 

“Guess it’s time to go.”

 

\---

 

It infuriated her that Zeus had basically threatened them. He knew how to push Hades’ buttons, to use things against him. The fact that Persephone could be vulnerable in her time up top had convinced him without fail - and she wasn’t willing to let him out of their marriage that easily as her death. Nor would she let it  _ come _ to her death, really. She’d sooner kick Zeus in his lightning balls than let that happen. 

 

None of her clothing in the underworld seemed suitable. She wore her lover’s colors when she stayed down below, the greys and blacks that took up almost all of her closet. None of the fabrics her fingers brushed past would do. Not that she was particular - the dresses were beautiful, gorgeous. Yet none seemed right for one of the shindigs way up top. Persephone gave a noise of frustration at her options, as if willing something to spring forth from the fabric and assemble itself in front of her. She'd never much cared for how she dressed, as long as it was comfortable and she could move freely. Loose dresses and trousers paired with her favorite boots were her favorite. She half debated about showing up in one of those outfits caked with dirt, but they'd turn her away at the door. Not to mention a small part of her didn't want to embarrass her husband. It was already taking a lot for him to go and she intended to show they were a united pair in front of the others, unshakable and unsinkable and all the other un-words. 

 

She would show them just what they'd brought on themselves - the Queen of the Underworld. She found people often forgot sometimes, her other title. Goddess of Spring. Queen of the Underworld. They went hand in hand, and with Zeus pulling rank she wasn’t afraid to pull it either. 

 

Besides. She hadn't had a chance to dress up real fancy in a while. 

 

Her gaze settled on a dress in the back of her wardrobe. It had been a gift very early in their relationship from her love, something fine spun. She'd never worn it. Her lips twitched. That would do. She snagged it off the hanger. That would do indeed. 

 

The dress was a deep emerald green in color, with black filigree lace on that faded in from the sleeves and bodice down. It was more form fitting at the top than she normally wore, and the sleeves lacked the poofy shoulders she often liked too - this was more elegant. A hybrid of the soft curves of the above ground and the sleekness of the underworld. It dipped low in the back, exposing the warm skin at her back - it was almost sinful. But it did give light to the inked skin there that rarely saw the light of day. Delicate, soft vines twisted around half of a pomegranate. Just as much a symbol as Hades' wall tattoo. 

 

It flared at her waist just enough; not quite a ballgown, but enough of a flare that it lifted when she turned too quickly. She'd been in love with this dress when Hades had gifted it to her and had been waiting for an excuse before her bitterness and pride had made her turn away any of his gifts. Now seemed good a time as any to let it see the light of day.

 

She studied herself in the bathroom mirror. She was getting old, she thought. Too old. She'd stopped truly aging forever ago, but thankfully in the body of a woman, not a little girl. She wasn't as beautiful as her momma, who's chestnut skin and dark eyes Persephone so loved. Not as beautiful as Hera or Aphrodite or any of the others. She was beautiful in her own way, though. Soft curves dappled with sun kissed freckles, high cheekbones, and hair for days even if it was unruly as a wheat field at times. 

 

Beautiful. Stunning enough to bring the King of the Underworld to his knees in front of her. She looked every inch a Queen - nearly. 

 

At the first signs of strain in their marriage, Hades had gifted her several things to try and appease her. One of them had been a flower crown made of gleaming gemstones from the mines. Delicate metal vines wove between the frozen blossoms, flowers immortalized in stones. She unburied it from a drawer and settled it atop her head. 

 

Zeus had changed her name eons ago. From Kore to Persephone. Little girl to chaos bringer. She would show him chaos. 

 

Hades was waiting in the entry hall when she headed downstairs. He turned at the sound of her footsteps and she could have sworn that strong jaw of his would've dropped open were Hades that sort of man. Nevertheless his gaze followed her, making no effort to hide the way he took in her appearance with a mixed expression. 

 

Goddess of spring, Queen of the underworld. She lifted a brow and grinned.

 

"See something you like, husband?"

 

He cleared his throat twice.

 

"Very much. You look ethereal."

 

"Figured I'd clean up a bit. Give this a try." She mused. "You clean up real nice too."

 

He had worn a dark suit, coal black. Without his usual pinstripes, too. It suited him - he looked more God than business man and Persephone let herself take him in the same he'd done her. Her lover was a mighty fine handsome man, and sometimes she needed reminding. They were learning each other again, as they’d done in the early days of their marriage, and she’d been reminded of many things since the girl and poet had stood there in the underworld. 

 

He offered his arm and she threaded hers through it as they headed to the car. It would be faster than the train. Hades slipped on his sunglasses as they climbed in, and Persephone lost herself in the blurring landscape beyond the deeply tinted windows.

 

"You're wearing my flowers." He murmured into the silence between them. 

 

"Course I am. Had to make sure all those handsy immortals knew who I gave my vows to." Her lips twitched. "Besides. They're beautiful. Been neglecting them."

 

"You look beautiful, Seph. I mean it."

 

"I know."

 

Her hand threaded through his on the console between them as he drove. The underground gave way to the aboveground and they drove on, past the station platform she frequented every six months. It looked abandoned now, all sad and lonely and the like. 

 

She felt the air shift after a certain point - Zeus' barrier to protect the area. Winter was not nearly so terrible here. More aesthetic than anything because it wasn't even cold. Not unless momma wanted it to be. 

 

The closer they drew to the destination, the tighter the knots in her stomach tightened. 

 

Countryside gave way to a small veritable city. Sleek and all too bright, dotted with houses that were absolutely lavish to the point of ridiculous. Built by gods full of themselves. In between were more normal dwellings and apartment buildings - mortals and demi-gods and whoever the hell else ended up there through the years. It was more city than town, a far cry from where she spent her time in the spring and summer. Bigger than Hadestown. Just as annoying, though. 

 

The estate at which Zeus and Hera lived was as grand as the rest, if not even more so. It was traditionally grecian in style with gardens that rivaled her momma's. She’d visited a few times here or there for various things, yet she could never remember a time it had looked even a hair out of place. Her skin prickled the closer they grew - it was always that way when gods gathered. She spent so much time surrounded by mortals that entering a densely populated godly place always made her uneasy.

 

"I hate this." Persephone muttered. "Suppose we can't turn around?"

 

Hades chuckled. 

 

"Are you worried?"

 

"For my sanity and your temper." 

 

There was a young boy at the entrance who took the keys to the car when they pulled up. Persephone tilted her head up at the grand place. 

 

"Sort of makes you miss Hadestown." She said as Hades joined her at the steps leading up to the door. 

 

"Words I never thought to hear you say." He had put the sunglasses back on again to keep the sun from making his eyes ache. She smiled sardonically. 

 

"You're making it better. Just promise me never to build something like this nonsense."

 

"You have my word, lover. Shall we?" His hand gravitated to her lower back, encouraging and protective. Almost possessive. Given the relationships between some of their relatives, she was all too happy to let him. Besides, it felt good to have him close still. His sturdy form. She wasn’t a small girl by any means and was more than capable of defending herself, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like how safe Hades could make her feel. How powerful. They could conquer kingdoms together, she knew. Neither had the desire.

 

The entryway was open, no windows just open walls that made everything flow easily between indoor and out. Music floated in between voices from the courtyard, and Persephone’s stomach coiled tighter. She hated being there. Hated the lot of these egotistical relatives. But she was not a little maiden anymore, she was bringer of chaos. Instinctively she straightened and lifted her head, mentally preparing herself to face gods old and new. Hades seemed to have a similar moment to himself, before they rounded the corner and stepped into the fray.

 

Leave it to Apollo to be the closest to the entryway and notice them first. He grinned, all perfect teeth shining and his skin that soft bronze. Still as broad shouldered and wearing a suit of an almost blinding shade of yellow. Persephone smiled and moved to embrace him when he stepped toward her, letting him sweep her into a strong hug. Some years ago she would’ve socked him in the jaw or broken his arm (again), but the eons had domesticated the both of them. 

 

Alright, maybe she didn’t hate  _ all _ of them up here on the mountain. 

 

“Long time no see, Persie.” Apollo grinned down at her. “You been hiding away?”

 

“Just resolving some things.” She mused. “Had some things to take care of below and above.”

 

Apollo offered the same smile to Hades, though it wavered at the corners. Not nearly as genuine. Like most of the other gods, they were kind to Hades because they had to be. Not that they wanted to. Still, Apollo offered out a hand.

 

“Sir.”

 

“Sun-boy.” Hades’ lips twitched but he shook his hand, brief and firm. Business-like. Persephone bit her lip.

 

“Surprised to see you up here.”

 

“No more surprised than me.” Her husband rumbled. Persephone squeezed his arm. If they could spend the entire evening with the likes of Apollo or even Dionysus, things would be fine. She knew it wouldn’t be the case, of course. The Fates were far too annoying and meddlesome to allow that. No, Zeus would want to see them. So would others. She tried not to sulk, and turned her attention elsewhere.

 

The courtyard was expansive, could fit far more people in it than there were now. Fountains and beautifully painted pottery and flowers were all on display and decorated with the usual lavish charm she associated with the mountain. Tacky was her favorite word for it. She never saw the use for fine things that you couldn’t use, couldn’t even  _ touch _ . What was the point? No, she liked decorations made with many hands, paintings with a sense of passion in them, projects that showed in them the life that had created them. It’s why she always put so much of herself in her flowers.

 

Perhaps that’s where Hadestown had failed. She had put too much of herself into the world up top and not enough down below. That city was all Hades’ work, all sharp edges and hotter than Tartarus. Nothing gentle about it. Sure, she had her little hidden speakeasy club, but she could only cover the cracks in the wall for so long. She’d neglected Hadestown, Hades had neglected her - a bitter circle without end. Well, mostly without end. The poet and his girl had brought them full circle, right back down to the beginning. She wouldn’t see them go down that circle again. 

 

A group of nymphs were playing instruments in a corner, delicate and light stringed lyres and flutes and harps. She hated it. There was no rhythm, no  _ beat _ to it. Sure, she knew the fancy waltzes and crap but they weren’t as fun. Weren’t as lively. Everything was grand and gilded and beautiful, and Persephone found herself longing for the dark peace of the underworld already. Figured it would take being dragged up here to begin to miss down below again. At least most of the other members of their fucked up family hadn’t paid much attention to their arrival - just yet, at least. She couldn’t even see Zeus and felt her ire building again. He’d invited them up here and couldn’t be bothered to show his own face? 

 

“Just remember if you lay waste to this mountain,” Hades murmured in her ear. “then we’re stuck with them in the underworld. Forever.”

 

“Believe me when I say it’s the only thing keeping my sanity.” Her lips twitched, arm tightening around his. 

 

Leave it to her momma to find them next. Persephone spotted Demeter too late to suggest a swift and sneaky exit to her lover. She felt Hades stiffen at his sister's approach, and Persephone almost sighed in greeting. 

 

"Hello, momma."

 

Demeter's gaze raked down her daughter's frame, clearly displeased with her dress choice but said nothing aloud about it. Not yet. 

 

"I'm surprised he let you out of that cave to come up here." She said with barely a glance at Hades. Persephone inwardly groaned - she was not about to have this fight again. Stomping over the same ground over and over with heated words and curses. If there was one person that Hades fought with more than her, it was Demeter.

 

"Actually, it was his idea." She remarked in return, layering her tone with an inflection of warning. "Don't know how many times I gotta tell you I made my choice."

 

"So you say." Demeter huffed. "You're far too pale, little one. I hate to see you suffer."

 

Demeter reached for Persephone's hair and immediately she swatted her hands away. 

 

“Enough, momma.” Persephone insisted. Demeter clucked her tongue at her daughter like she’d done when she was young.

 

“You know I worry about you.”

 

“Hades trusts you to have me half the year, the least you could do is give him the same respect.” 

 

“It ain’t a crime to think you’re suffering, girl.”

 

"I ain't suffering and you know it. I love my husband. Just cause you ain't had happiness with your men don't mean I can't have happiness in mine." She snapped. She felt guilty for doing so, but Demeter's face only betrayed the sting for half a second before it smoothed into something akin to neutrality. They’d had the same fights before, the same biting words. Persephone was far too on edge enough without her momma’s harping on.

 

"You best remember who you're speaking to, Kore."

 

"And you best remember I'm not a little girl anymore." She ground out. "Enjoy the evening, and I'll see you in six months."

 

She half dragged Hades across the room, scowling all the while. 

 

"You could've said something, you know." She said to him suddenly. 

 

"You had it handled."

 

Her relationship with her momma was strained at best in recent years. Even before. Trying to keep her momma and her marriage happy had led to the decline of both, Persephone unable to stop it. She felt more suffocated with her momma than she did down below, like a vine wrapped around her was choking the air out of her lungs. It was being stuck between a rock and a hard place, trapped in an endless loop of frustration and hate. She loved Demeter of course, that was fact - but she seemed to be eternally in her momma’s mind as a young girl who’d been kidnapped, so her momma told anyone who would listen. She’d spend the rest of her immortal life doing damage control on that one.

 

"Come on, then."

 

She glanced down at the hand extended to her by her husband. He tilted his head toward the dance floor nearby, the last notes of one song fading before the next began. She arched a brow. 

 

"You sure you can still manage?"

 

"I'm old, but not senile." He huffed. "And I think my wife could use a dance."

 

Your wife could use a get out of jail card, she wanted to say. Didn't, of course. Just stuck her hand in his and let him lead her to the floor. Those who feared Hades - which, were most - immediately sidestepped out of their path together with quiet murmurs. Persephone rolled her eyes. Olympus was a gossip mill at any rate. Clearly they didn't have anything better to do than drink and talk. She knew they'd been talking about her and Hades, Hermes had said as much. Ever since their fighting started. Least now they'd have something else to fuel their rumor mills.

 

Hades slipped his arm around her waist and drew her close. They'd always danced well together, never stepping on each other's toes. Seamless, fluid movements that fell into time with whatever music happened to be playing. While they hadn't danced together in some time, Persephone felt herself slide easily back into old routine. He led, she followed, and they twisted around others dancing. She could feel eyes on her back and knew her lover could too - it was the attention they always drew. Even before the fighting, the rare times they'd been up the mountain. At first it had embarrassed her, made her feel terrified - after all, she'd been nothing but a secondary God compared to her newly won husband. 

 

Now, however, Persephone let them look at they'd like. Her gaze never strayed from her husband's, the pair of them waltzing to the soft lyre music. It reminded her of that ancient melody, bringing the world to rights again. Hades seemed to be much on the same wavelength, and in a rare and tender gesture he leaned in to press a kiss to her hair. Her husband had never been one for public displays of affection, but something about it made her chest warm and her heart soar. A simple gesture with a million meanings. 

 

Persephone smiled and rested her head against his shoulder, their steps becoming little more than swaying together at the edge of the floor. It was easy to pretend they were alone, just for a moment. Her fingers wound tighter in his, a comfort to them both. 

 

"I think Artemis and Athena are on their way to kidnap you from me." He murmured suddenly, low in her ear. She gave a heavy, dramatic sigh. 

 

"Suppose momma already told them I went off on her." She muttered. Still, she caught no sign of Zeus. Damn him. She knew they couldn't leave until he'd seen them and her earlier irritation returned. Hades smiled softly as their dance came to an end. 

 

"I won't be far." He whispered and Persephone nodded, just before Athena and Artemis descended on her.

 

It was always a toss up whether or not she got on with her godly relatives. Athena was decent mostly because she'd sworn off guys, and Artemis was far more sane than her twin. Both were beautiful, dark haired women who carried pride in their every step. Immediately they were spiriting Persephone away chattering about a mile a minute with questions she couldn't even get the answers out for before they were on to another. Clearly too much ambrosia had been going around. 

 

But, there was worse company.

 

In truth, there were only a few on the mountain Persephone refused to ever like. Dionysus was perfectly fine if he wasn't getting handsy after spending too much time in his cups. Hephaestus was kind. Athena and Artemis were tolerable, as was Apollo. Hermes of course. Hestia, too, always willing to listen and give advice, the one who Persephone had assumed would be furious at having decided not to take her vow centuries ago. She'd just laughed and patted her cheek instead. 

 

Everyone else could take a flying leap.

 

Hera hated her, which was just fine on Persephone's behalf. They didn't speak unless absolutely needed which was thankfully, never. She had never gotten on with Poseidon after his fallout with her momma. Aphrodite was too belittling and rude. Ares she rarely ventured close to, because she got enough temper in her husband and didn't need his too. Zeus was Zeus. 

 

"Are you going to tell us  _ anything _ about what happened? Hermes has been entirely too tight lipped." Athena remarked, and Persephone reached out for a glass of ambrosia from a passing waiter.

 

"About what?"

 

Could have been any number of things. Her little spat with her momma, her big spat with her husband, Orpheus and Eurydice - she didn't know which story would be worse to tell. 

 

"Everything." Artemis demanded and Persephone snorted. 

 

"That's a long ass story, sister."

 

Persephone ain't one to let them gossip behind her back, though. So she told them of the poet and his songbird, the song they brought back to the underworld to remind two old as hell gods that they needed to get their shit together and learn how to talk to one another. They were still working on that bit. Quite frankly she worried all their work would be undone when she went back to the spring and left him to his own devices again. Man seemed not to have a single brain cell whenever she left him and filled the void of her absence with the reliable pounding of foundries and factories. 

 

She glanced up to see her love not terribly far away, deep in conversation with Hephaestus. Always hovering, her man. Half of her wished he'd come rescue her from the other two goddess who  _ would not shut the hell up gods above _ .

 

Great booming laughter sounded from the other side of the room and her head snapped up. About damn time, she thought, spotting Zeus with his arm around his wife. There was another marriage suffering, though neither seemed eager to work on theirs. Not her marriage, not her problem. The idea of facing both of them in order to leave seemed daunting. She glanced back over at Hades, who was staring at her. He jerked his head toward his brother and Persephone nodded slowly before she drained the remainder of her glass. 

 

"Best go see to daddy dearest." She muttered to the goddesses in her company, who were already switching topics. They gossiped more than the old village women. Seeing as they were not likely to miss her presence, she stood as Hades crossed the distance between them and took up her arm once more. She forgot how much she missed his presence when she found herself without it. Spoiled, she was. And it wasn’t even the fine gemstones and silken fabrics that had done it. Just him. 

 

“We hedging bets on which one of us loses our mind first?” He rumbled and she chuckled into his shoulder. 

 

“You mean which one of us is gonna restrain the other when he says something stupid?”

 

“You give Hera too little credit. From what I’ve been hearing they’re not exactly on good terms. One off-handed comment and I wouldn’t doubt she’d geld him here in front of everyone as witnesses.” 

 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re gossiping too.”

 

“I would never stoop to such levels, wife.”

 

Persephone felt her smile fade almost instinctively the closer they drew to Zeus and Hera. The king of the gods noticed them first, giving a charming grin that was almost too big for his face. He hadn’t changed in the time since she’d seen him, except that beard a bit longer and a bit greyer. Hades had aged far more handsomely.

 

“Persephone!” Zeus greeted jubilantly and immediately drew her into a suffocating hug. “You haven’t changed a bit, spring queen. Vibrant as your mother.” 

 

“Good to see you too, daddy.” She murmured, trying to ignore Hera’s frosty look before she plastered on that fake as hell smile she had perfected. Zeus extended a hand then to his brother, who took it briefly in a firm shake. A good start. Ten seconds in and no one was yelling. Or dead. Better than some meetings they’d had before.

 

“Surprised to see you came.” Zeus said carefully, and Persephone’s eyes immediately narrowed.

 

“Figured it’d been too long.” Hades replied before she could open her mouth. Right. Avoiding causing a war. 

 

“Did either of you want a drink?” Hera offered in her sickly sweet tone. “I’m not sure what you drink anymore, Kore. Or does it matter anymore?”

 

Persephone smiled sharply in return.

 

“Had a bit of ambrosia earlier,  _ sister _ . I’ll take a rain check.”

 

Gods, how Persephone wanted to punch her in her perfect face. Too bad her husband had hold of her dominant arm, but she thought she could probably manage with her other if Hera stepped just to the left. 

 

“Brother, might I borrow your wife for a dance?” Zeus interjected before Hera could shoot her mouth off again.

 

“I have no objection, but you should probably ask her first.” Hades replied dryly. 

 

“Yeah. Fine. Sure.” And for the second time that night, Persephone was whisked off from her husband. Not that she could rightly tell Zeus  _ no _ , much as she wanted to. Dancing with him was more difficult; his gait was larger and not very suited to hers, and he led with an iron grip at her waist and hand that felt like shackles. Vaguely she wondered if it was habit from dancing with Hera, keeping her locked in his embrace to pretend things were normal. She could have pitied Hera, once upon a time. But she and Zeus had made their bed long ago and both refused to sleep in it. 

 

“Tell me how you are, little one.” Zeus said. Persephone arched a brow. 

 

“Well enough. Same old, same old.” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

 

“It’s been said the winters have been harsh lately.”

 

“Winters can’t all be mild.” A pause. “But they’re calmer now. Will be for a while.”

 

“You seem unhappy.”

 

Oh, a real genius Zeus was. She bit the inside of her cheek. Course she was unhappy. She was up on the mountain where she didn’t want to be. She spent half her year trying to get along with her momma, the other half trying to get along with her husband. 

 

“I’ll deal with it and you know it.” She replied evenly. “Ain’t got a choice in the matter.”

 

“Persephone, if you’re unhappy in your marriage I would see it ended.”

 

Her blood ran cold. Of all the damn things to say --  _ what the hell? _

 

“You’re only saying that and you know it, old man. You can’t break the rules of the dead.”

 

“No, but Hades may. And if you are unhappy in your marriage to him, I would force him to let you be.”

 

She frowned sharply. 

 

“Seriously? Just like that?”

 

“If that’s what you wanted?”

 

Persephone felt her stomach twist itself back into the knots from before, though for an entirely different reason. She glanced over Zeus’ shoulder to where Hades and Hera were sharing a surprisingly decent conversation; they always got on if Zeus wasn’t there to instigate or play jealous husband. He caught her eye and smiled, and Persephone felt herself smile in return. The warmth blossomed in her chest again. 

 

After everything, she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. It would truly break her lover and it would break her. She wanted their marriage to work out, their happiness to be restored. They were taking steps toward that, together, though she feared it would be like starting over every six months. Not continuing. Back to square one when she came back down for the winter. She tilted her head back up to Zeus, who looked worried. 

 

“What if I want something else instead?” She mused. “Same thing, but a different outcome.”

 

Zeus looked down at her with an arched brow, though something akin to amusement glittering in his gaze. As if he already knew her question, and for a moment she thought she might not have to ask. 

 

“You have my attention, little one.”

 

\---

 

“Kore, you want to tell me what in the name of utter sanity you think you’re doing?!”

 

Persephone sighed at the screech of her momma’s voice across the gardens of the Olympus estate. Night had fallen, twinkling lights and lanterns glowing gently through the bushes and trees and floral plants that had turned it into somewhat of a dream-like place. She could hear the fountains in the distance, softly babbling - but immediately they’d been stifled by her mother’s voice.

 

“Don’t, momma.” She tried quietly as Demeter came to stand near her. They were blessedly alone.

 

“You have absolutely no right to even request such a thing.” She warned in a surprisingly level tone, despite the sheer anger that seemed to radiate from her. Persephone drew a sharp breath, straightened her spine of steel, and turned toward Demeter with the most neutral expression she could muster.

 

“You are my daughter and I will not have you throwing your entire life away.” She continued before Persephone could open her mouth.

 

“I am a woman grown, momma! Did you ever thing to ask me what I wanted? I am sick and damned tired of other people making my decisions for me.” Persephone lamented. “So I made my own. It’s  _ my _ life and I’ll do with it what I will, whether it be to cast myself into the endless sea or stay sheltered in a garden or live beneath the earth! It’s  _ my _ choice and you will not take it from me. Not you, not Hades, not  _ anyone _ .”

 

Despite the strength to her voice, Persephone would have rather faced down an angry hydra than her angry momma.

 

“I refuse to let this happen. I’ll --.”

 

“You’ll what? We both know you’re just fine bringing the seasons on your own because you did it before I even came along. I’m  _ tired _ , momma. I’m so sick and tired of being in this tug-o-war between you and Hades. I can’t take it anymore.”

 

She ran a hand across her face, scowling faintly. Demeter was quiet for a long moment and when Persephone thought to look at her again, she saw not anger, but tears. Guilt sank like a rock to the pit of her stomach, bile rising in her throat.

 

“And you chose him over me. I raised you. I nurtured you. You - Kore, you’re my world.”

 

“You’re right. You did raise me. You raised me to be my own person, momma. To be strong, like you. All birds gotta leave the nest and you know it just as much as I do. It ain’t like you’ll never see me again - but I gotta try. I  _ love _ him. And I ain’t gonna have the chance to much longer if I don’t try. He’s trying too - please understand. If I knew any other way to make it work, I would. But this custody arrangement has to end. I need to be able to come and go when I please. Where I please. Not stuck one place or the other.” 

 

Quietly, Demeter reached out to take Persephone’s hand. Persephone felt her own tears burning at her eyes. 

 

“I love you, momma. Never doubt that. But I gotta  _ try _ . You may not like him -.”

 

“Oh, I like him plenty well enough, girl.” Demeter said with a sharp bark of laughter, much to Persephone’s surprise. “He’s my brother. I tolerate him. I don’t like it, but I tolerate him. Because of you.” Demeter reached up to touch her daughter’s face, warm and kind. “I just don’t like him because he took my only little girl away from me.”

 

“You know he didn’t take me. I went with him ‘cause I wanted to.”

 

“It’s easier to blame him than you.” Her fingers trailed into Persephone’s hair, briefly touching the iron crown of gemstones. “You’re beautiful. Life or death. You wear them both well.” Demeter sighed, looking down for a moment. “---if this is what you want, I’ll endure it. I don’t like it, but even I can’t ignore what it’s doing to you.”

 

Persephone gave a watery laugh, and Demeter’s gently touch brushed away her tears. 

 

“You fight for him, girl.” Demeter whispered. “You hear me? You fight for him and you get your happiness. Momma will be here when you decide you want to come visit.”

 

She dragged Demeter into a fierce hug, burying her face against her momma’s neck. She smelled of warm spices and earth, all soft curves and dark skin. They’d manage. They always did. 

 

“I love you.” She murmured against her momma’s hair before drawing back. Demeter took her face in her hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

 

“And I love you, Persephone.”

 

And so Persephone went to find her husband. 

 

He had found a quiet corner to survey the room in, nursing a glass of ambrosia. She knew without seeing behind those dark sunglasses that he was looking for her, his gaze landing on her half a second after she entered the room. Concern coloured his features when he saw the drying tears on her face, brows knitted together and a frown curling at the edges of his face.

 

“Seph, are you alright?” The words were half out of his mouth before she kissed him. His surprise showed, faltering before she felt his arm around her waist settle more firmly. 

 

“Not that your affection is unwelcome, but are you well?” He asked the moment she drew away. Had she truly starved him of affection for so long he thought she was upset to kiss him? The tears likely didn’t help. Or the ambrosia on her breath. 

 

“Better than I’ve been in centuries.” She replied quietly, brushing her nose against his. “Never felt more in control.”

 

“Did my brother drug you, Persephone?”

 

She laughed, neatly taking his glass from him and setting it on a passing tray. 

 

“No, but he gave me something else. Something better.”

 

“I swear to --”

 

“Let me finish and stop assuming! I’d never.” She growled. “Hades, he let me go. Momma, she let me try.”

 

“---what?”

 

“You and I. All year round.”

 

She watched his expression falter from confusion to something akin to adoration and then pure love, resting his forehead against her own. The iron of her crown dug into her scalp but she didn’t care, grinning like a madwoman. Perhaps she was a madwoman. She didn’t give a damn. 

 

“I want to try. You must know that.” She continued softly. “All these years I’ve been coming to that platform when you called. And I know you were afraid I’d not show up. But I did. I always did. And you won’t need to worry about it now because there won’t be no waiting on a train. Just me.”

 

He drew her close, and Persephone could have watched the tension in his shoulders ease somewhat, that burden he carried lessening just a fraction. It would take time - all things did. Nothing was ever perfect at the start. Trying was all they could do.

 

“I’ve only ever wanted just you.” He murmured low in her ear then, and she pressed her face against his shoulder.

 

“I only ever wanted you. I don’t need neon lights and factories, lover.”

 

“I’ve been an idiot, haven’t I?”

 

“So have I. Least now we’ll both be atoning for it. Eternal damnation.”

 

“Loving you would never be damnation.” He lifted their entwined fingers together to kiss the back of her hand. Persephone smiled and brushed her fingers along his jaw, admiring her husband for a long moment. 

 

“How long have we been married?” She asked, thumb brushing along the stubble of his cheek. 

 

“Since the beginning of time.” He vowed. “And how long will we be married?”

 

“Until the end of time.” She echoed gently. “Take me home, husband. I’m ready to blow this joint.”

 

“As my wife commands.”


End file.
